


Night and Day

by RositaLG



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RositaLG/pseuds/RositaLG
Summary: Two missing scenes from The Blood of Juana the Mad as Jack contemplates his issues with Phryne.





	Night and Day

**Author's Note:**

> I will never be satisfied with Jack’s amount of plot time in “Juana”. One moment, he’s begging Phryne to leave him alone and the next, he’s in her parlor drinking. I mean, fine but come on, I needed just a wee bit more, so here are two tiny scenes just to get a little closer look at Jack’s POV.  

**Night:**

Jack tried to still his shaking hands but he was furious. 

He was also a fool.

Somewhere along the way, he’d become a plaything that she could pick up or ignore whenever convenient to her, and truth be told, he’d seen it coming a mile away but he hadn’t done a thing to stop it, which in turn, made him furious with himself all over again. 

It was a cycle he wasn’t quite sure how to escape. Emotions were rendered useless in the face of her: being upset wouldn’t change the situation. There was nothing to fix, nothing to put back together. Their “partnership” had been tentative at best and purely a fiction at worst, a lie he’d constructed to ease his own guilt for not being able to deny her, for letting her get by with so much. If it helped to solve cases, then her interference couldn’t really be a problem, could it?

He took another long swig of whiskey, knowing full well the bottle would be emptied before the night was through. 

Why did this keep happening to him? Why was he loyal to women who threw him aside when they ran out of use of him?

With Rosie, her goal had been a Proper Life. On the outside, she’d wanted a strong, well-liked husband with an impressive title, serving the community as a hero. On the inside, she wanted someone to build her a home, fill it with children, and protect the lot from the world. 

Instead, Jack had chosen to protect his country and left her to fend for herself. She’d never forgiven him for the abandonment. By the time he’d come back, a family and a title were the last thing on his mind. He had settled for surviving each day without swallowing his pistol. 

Naturally, Rosie fled to greener pastures and Jack hadn’t faulted her for it. They were both better off for the decision.

Phryne on the other hand, had come with a giant warning label. He’d known immediately that she was trouble. She was far too charming, like an anaesthetic that makes you feels so warm, you don’t even notice the knife slicing through your guts. He’d watched as she beguiled others, commiserating with the poor saps. Although, somewhere along the way, he’d convinced himself he was different, that at least knowing he was a victim had given him a status above the rest of the fools. 

He wasn’t feeling so tall now. 

A lesser man would have broken months ago but he’d held onto his pride and pushed back, which only encouraged her. 

He was the one who’d made it a game. 

He took another drink for his own stupidity. 

If he hadn’t gone toe to toe with her, she would have gotten bored ages ago and moved on, leaving him in peace. But she laid out traps too irresistible to ignore, and he couldn’t stop the quick replies that fell from his tongue, the same ones that lit up her eyes with impressed curiosity and made that surprised smile tug at the corner of her red lips. 

God damn it, he loved impressing her. 

Looking back, the connection they shared was always stronger than he was. Even now, as he sat in the dark, trying to convince himself he’d made the right decision, it still thrummed inside him, calling out to her. It was a damn foolish thing to want her even when she’d turned him into this broken thing sitting here. But while he may have caved under the pressure, he had a feeling that the connection between them never would. 

OOOOO

**Day:**

Jack Robinson had just chased down a spy on the back of a borrowed motorbike, with the very woman he had been fighting tooth and nail to avoid pressed to him like she had been molded to fit there. It was a scene ripped out of a goddamn adventure novel and still he felt uneasy. But he only had one final stop left before he was allowed to go home and soak his raw nerves in hot water and whiskey. 

He headed towards Dr. McMillan’s office, stopping short as she walked out.

“Inspector, I was just on my way to find you,” she smirked. “We’ve been invited to drinks at Wardlow. A tradition of sorts I’m told?” 

“I see,” he smiled briefly, trying to make his escape as quickly as possible, but Mac saw his reticence for what it was. 

“What are you doing, Inspector?” Mac asked him quietly. 

"I’m sorry?” He asked, refusing to say anything until she confirmed what it was she meant.

"You think you can outrun Phryne Fisher when it comes to matters of the heart?” Mac asked, a doubtfully raised eyebrow telling him everything he already knew. 

Of course he didn’t.

Jack knew full well that there was nothing he could do to make the constant pain in his sternum dissipate. 

Phryne Fisher would not be denied. 

He could lock the door to his heart all he wanted, but she carried a lock pick in her hand bag. No matter what he did, or where he went, she would find him. She would work her magic and gracefully sway to the sound of his falling tumblers until he had no choice but to open up to her again and again and again. 

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. 

He might as well learn to stay in step. 


End file.
